


this ninja eatin salad like his name romain

by oncewewerezombies



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society (Homestuck), Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Body Worship, Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Cult of the Mirthful Messiahs, Cunnilingus, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Kitchen Sex, Love Bites, Marking, Pet Names, Redemption, References to Canon, Rimming, Tender Sex, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 02:17:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20987186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncewewerezombies/pseuds/oncewewerezombies
Summary: I love you like a fat kid love cakeYou know my styleI say anything to make you smile- Troll Pablo NerudaBad bitches, I’m your leaderPhantom by the meterSomebody point me to the best ass-eater- Military slampoem excerpt, apocryphally attributed to Her Imperious Condescension





	this ninja eatin salad like his name romain

Your matesprit has one of the best fucking asses this side of the motherfucking universe, and that's just a god damn fact. 

She got all her busy on, getting everything motherfucking going in the nutrutionalblock so it smells warm and sweet, like sugar and deliciousness. Much like her, to be motherfucking real with a ninja. You just enjoying looking, loving the way she looks when she's thinking and concentrating, plush kissable lips pursed just a little. Glasses bright red, red as red and red as your precious diamond's blood, black curls soft as motherfucking baabeast fleece being pushed out of her gazenuggets' way with a quiet huff as they escape from being pushed behind the curves of her auricularclots. Again, and then again as the wicked things keep coming on out of where she's been trying to push them.

"There," she declares, voice rough and warm with pleased satisfaction at getting all her shit accomplished, sliding one last tray of unbaked goods into the foodburner and brushing her grasperfronds off smartly. There's flour sprinkled across her cheek, a lick of jam on her pointerstub and boy, do you wanna be the motherfucker to clean that smear of redberry right off her skin. The thought gives you impetuous to stir yourself from the comfortblock where you been chilling, your spindly walking fronds propelling you from your seat to right behind her. "Oh? And what do _you_ want, Mr Makara?"

She sounds cross as two motherfucking sticks to speak to you, but you know it to be fond as your hands cup the righteous curves of her hips and smooth down to that ass you been so set on admiring. Your front to her back, your sniffnode to the side of her neck, just breathing her in as you hum a little. Collect your thoughts. It's so easy to get real motherfucking distracted from shit when you got your hands on her, her hot curves, that sweet ass and knowing how her pusher beats pity for you like yours does for her. Soft and warm pity as red as red, all twisted up with mating fondness. Ain't the same as what you got with Karbro, but why would you want it to be? Each motherfucker on this godforsaken bitch of a planet be their own motherfucking miracle. 

"Just thinking fond on you, my most bodacious mamacita," you hum into the soft skin of her throat, and she matches your sway in the warmth of this little motherfucking place the two of you call hive. Been a long way to get here. Had a lot of shit happen as you'd both needed to sort out. Been a long time coming, this peaceful motherfucking interlude. You both worked things out with all other kinds of motherfuckers, got to thinking long on your own selves, all the way to the deep of your souls. And here, this is what you get now. This. Soft. And her, oh, her, you get to touch _Jane_. Your beautiful heart, beating outside your forsaken corpsehusk, all bright and pretty as you know your soul ain't. "Thinking how pretty you are. What a lucky mirthful ninja I am."

"Really," she purrs back, as dangerous and soft as a purrbeast resting in open moonlight. Underneath the curves, you can feel the solid of her muscle. Your Janey is one strong motherfucking killarillarolla bitch, and you love it that way. She can take a motherfucker through the windpipe without a blink or mussing up that crimson lipstick that she likes to wear when she's feeling fierce, but she's soft enough to let herself be weak with you; a brother wouldn't change one motherfucking thing about her, even if he could fucking do so.

"That a crime? Don't be getting down on a motherfucker, flushheart," you murmur, both your voices kept soft like you gonna break some kinda spell on the whole motherfucking place. Door's locked, Jane wouldn't have it another way and neither would you (memories, you both got memories...so many fucking bad memories). Don't have anything planned. Just staying hive, getting chill. And now you're hoping to get jiggy fucking with it. You think Jane's in the mood to be convinced, you just gotta find a way to woo her right. Thanks be to the Messiahs, but that's something you've always had the knack of doing. "You just givin' a motherfucker some ideas, watching you move."

"Mmhmm?" She moves away from you and you stay as close as you can, stroking your hands along the tops of her arms as she pretends at tidying up. Bowl in the sink, flipping the handle of the tap to run water in it. You ain't getting in her way, but you ain't letting her forget that you here neither. Standing in front of the sink as she is, you cosy up again and kiss the back of her neck. That soft spot, where you could sink your fangs if you only wanted to but you and she both know you would fucking never. Ain't in you to hurt someone you pity, though there be so many other motherfuckers you'd put a hurt on (have put a righteous _motherfucking_ hurting on). "What sort of ideas? You'll need to enlighten me."

You kiss the back of her neck, the side of her throat. Her skin smells warm and a bit like sugar, soft human smells that ain't nothing like a troll. The wisps of hair at the base of her skull tickle your sniffnode and you hum happiness, kissing at that little arrow-shaped part of her hairline, all downy-feathery like a baby quackbeast's fluff. Love it so, all these little secrets of her that you know. Your graspers stroke and caress, feeling out the well known shape of her, a terrain you've travelled so many times and will travel so many more (Messiahs, make it so, a brother prays with all the darkest parts of his secret soul). Your mouth takes you down exploratory, following that line of her spine through her shirt until you're on your knees behind her, your hands squeezing reverently at the round of her amazing ass. 

"Oh," she says, droll and amused but with a little hitch in her voice that makes you chuckle to yourself. Your whole face is basically between her legs, since she's helpfully widened apart her frondstubs to let you get in there. With just a little nip, you tug at the threaded seam of her jeans with the very tippytips of your front fangs, inhaling the scent of her most tender places. You know well what that smells like, even through motherfucking denim. "_That_ kind of idea."

"Can it be helped when you looking so fine and got me thinking about some cotton candy that might need eating, sugartits?" She squawks, and aims a smack down at you but you know she doesn't mean it. Besides, you're hunched up small enough behind her legs that she can't really hit you, less she was gonna get you on the horns and ain't nobody want to break their motherfucking hands on your wondrous long horns with their pointy little ends. "Let a wicked brother get his mouth on you, huh? I wanna eat you right the fuck out, Janey, gonna lick you front to back, from your pussy to your crack."

"Mmph. Well..." Her hands clench on the edges of the counter, and then she lifts one of them and you hear the rasp of her zipper. "I suppose when you put it like that, I can't find the heart in me to say no, hoo hoo hoo!" Her laugh is a thing you could wrap yourself up in for all the winter, it eases jagged cracks in your soul. You chuckle huskily, and tug her pants down slow, allowing yourself the tease of a slow reveal. All that soft warm skin, well rounded, well fed, an ass that you can and have written slam poetry about. At motherfucking length, as that ass do deserve.

"I love your fucking gorgeous ass," you tell her, and run the tip of your tongue over your lips as you try to decide where you gonna start. It's like you've been presented with some whole motherfucking cake, and it's decked out with cream and strawberries and fucking funfetti, the best kind of cake and all for you. "Turn around, huh, flushcrush? Wanna get all friendly with the front first."

"Sounds more hygienic, Gamzee dear," she agrees, and does a little awkward shuffle to get front to front with you, her jeans down around her knees and you do your own little movements to give her room to move in. The two of you both get to it so you're still on your knees down in front of her like a proper fucking supplicant should be when approaching a goddess and she looking down at you, fond as fire and warm as heart. All her feelings in those bright blue gazers, little twist to her mouth saying how she's humouring at you but you know she want it just as bad as you do. You can _smell_ it, that wanting on her skin. Soft hot smells, as you're by now very motherfucking happy to familiar with. Love the taste, the scent of her when she gets all proper heated up with that lewd mating fondness. Knowing that your mere nearness can have that effect on a hotblooded sister. Y'ain't never thought on the idea of anyone wanting you like this, not before she came to throw all your ideas on everything through the fucking viewing portalplane. "Not that doing this in the kitchen is in line with any sort of food handling standard."

"Wanna do it here," you purr, looking up at her and knowing your eyes are as slitted with content as a motherfucking purrbeast. Right where you wanna be, doing what you want and with who you hold safe and tight in your reddest fucking pity. "Want to do it here, with you looking like this, in the place where your pusher beats the happiest." Her eyes blink rapid for a moment and you look away, to allow her the moment of vulnerability. And also so you can kiss the smooth round curves of her thighs; a body that gets enough, has been fed well. You love the look on her. She looks motherfucking _satisfied_, and how could you not want your matesprit to be all motherfucking satisfied in every direction? Ain't your responsibility except in the one field, but you like her how she is. "Gonna make you motherfucking scream, my most dearest, going to get my mouth on you _so good_, my dearling, my darling, my sweet motherfucking candycrush..."

"You're such a tease, talking about how you're going to do all this stuff, and not bloody well doing it - oh!" 

With that permission given, you lunge forward to suck and lick at her pretty nook, your hands cupping her plushest of rumps and squeezing gently as you delve into her soft and warm inners with the full length of your tongue. Jane kicks the cupboard, hand going one to the counter to grab for balance and the other one grabs at one of your long horns about midway down. That's where it starts getting grown out and numb so you just schlurp away at her neden, looking up at her and taking in every little twitch and fidget, those sighs and moans as you use your tongue as you've learned to do so well. Kneading away at her buns the same way she kneads away when she's making dough, working soft cuddlesome flesh in your long, skinny fingers.

This is yours, and your soul sings inside itself with pleasure as you relearn, reknow, all that salt-slick taste and acidic ways of the softness between her thighs. No bulge to speak of, sadly, but she got this lil pleasure-nubbin that always gets the best squeaks when you flick it with a firmness of your tongue. Remembering of that happenstance makes you do it, and you get the most delightful little _squeal_ from Jane and her hand flies from your horn to her mouth, to stifle the noises and hold them back inside herself. Eyes closed, thighs shaking as you devour her most softly and gently, tongue tasting the deep wells of her being, feeling her juice up, slick down her own thighs. Soft, squishy, delicious, with wiry springs of curls tickling at your sniffnode. 

"Flush as fuck for you," you hum against her, wanting to make voice on what's echoing in the depths of your pusher. She's yours, and you belong to her. Mine, mine, mine, all the darkest parts of you chant in echoing hymns on the inside of your brainpan, echoing with wicked delight as she squirms and sighs with pleasure that you're bringing to her. Thighs clenching around the sides of your face. "Lemme hear you - wanna hear you _sing out_, Janey babe, mama, _c'mon_-"

"Gamzee, oh god, _Gamzee_," she croons most delicious and you purr into her with pleasure. Tastes good. Love to her motherfucking sounds, and hadn't it taken a long while to convince her of that? Both of you so bad at asking for what pleases you, for what a motherfucker might need from another. Even one so close and so loved. You can feel the hot aching of your bulge trapped in its sheath, nook leaking steady into your underthings but this ain't about you right now. This about her. About Jane. About giving her the pleasure, the _worship_ as she deserves, just for being her own fucking self. You caress the curves of her bounteous ass with your fingers, pulling her to your maw so you can get your flavourslab up and every motherfucking where as gives her the most pleasure.

Until she's gasping, clinging to you and the bench like her walking fronds ain't gonna hold her no never more if you don't stop. You're pretty sure she's pailed at least once, sometimes it just be hard to tell. Definitely gotten all squeaky and hoarse with pleasure like you've motherfucking served her well even if she ain't gonna paint you and the floor with vivid colour, and y'ain't even barely gotten started. Oh, you have _plans_ for your flushest lil red heart. Pulling away with one last loving lick to her pussy, so soft and oh so fucking wet, you sit back for a moment and just admire what you've wrought. Face all flushed, mouth open and legs a-tremble with lewd satisfaction, your Jane is a marvel to fucking behold. You love her in all her ways and glorious vistas, but this is definitely one of your motherfucking favourites. 

"Fuck," she chokes out, and you hum a little in response, unable to stop your leering grin from appearing on your nug. Lick her again, for the musky taste of salt, clingingly alkaline on your tongue. Maybe it ain't a thing every motherfucker has a hankering for, but they be dumb as motherfucking fuck if they don't wanna do this for their whoever special someone. She cuffs you gentle around the back of the head, more a caress than a blow and you chuckle. "Dirty clown."

"With such a motherfucking intense delight before me, how can I not be," you purr, and kiss her thighs. One side, than the other, so that one don't feel fucking left out or nothing. She trembles, your Jane, and you lean your head against soft skin so you can look up at her and let her see your devotion to her own hellriotous self. "You make me motherfucking _rise_ to the occasion, sugartits."

"Do it harder," she orders you, and takes a firm grip on the dense curls that make up your wild mane of hair. You quirk an eyebrow, silently asking if she's really sure and she nods, quick and hard. The look in her oculars could flay a man to the bone, so you nuzzle at the softness of her thigh, marking out the perfect place with your lips until you peel them back from your fangs and settle in for a quick, dirty bite. Leaving a purple-red mark the shape and size of your whole motherfucking dentition in the pale skin of her leg, where no one will likely see it but oh - oh - she sure is gonna feel it. Gonna feel it for a few nights, at the motherfucking least. You lick and nuzzle as she lets out an explosive breath, soothing the little triangle-shaped wounds with licks of your tongue before nuzzling at her neden again, unable to help yourself from tasting again when you's got the chance before pulling away.

Sticky purpley strands of drool link the tip of your tastemuscle and her pretty pussy, because she sure does get a motherfucker salivating. Both for the delicious baked foodstuffs that she devises, and that motherfucking cottoncandy pie that lies sweet and pretty between her bodacious thighs. She lifts one foot a little at your urgings, leaning back on the counter and you help her get those clinging walkingfrond-covers off. First off the one gorgeous dimpled leg, then t'other, before you throw them away somewhere over your shoulder so they can flop on the ground in ignominy. How dare they keep you from what you most fucking desire, even if only temporarily? 

"Clothes are Messiahs forsaken bullshit," you opine out loud to make your thoughts on the matter plain when she quirks an eyebrow at you, probably wondering why you've paused for a moment and she shakes her head at you in mock-despair before shifting her sweet self around so you can get your graspers back on that motherfucking _ass_. Bless the saints above and below, that ass is a motherfucking miracle and a half. You squish her cheeks in your hands with pleasure, and you can feel her shudder all over as you spread 'em apart and open. Baring that tight lil pucker for your delight and fucking delectation. "Every bit of you is so motherfucking pretty," you murmur, jostling her thick cheeks in your hands for a bit, just appreciating that luscious jiggle of plump flesh. Fuck, you're a lucky motherfucker to be able to get your graspers on all of this fucking bounty.

"You say that, mm, a lot," she says back to you breathless, and you chuckle. Just kinda kneading at her cheeks as you show mercy and let her get something of her poise back before you wreck her shit all over again. God damn, but you do love to hear her moan. Once or twice, you've gotten her to squirt and you are _all_ about that shit. Love her wet and wanton, and you adore being the one to take her to that place of lustful nirvana. "Don't you get tired of it?"

"How could I get tired of sayin' something that's true?" you say with surprise, and look up at her to try to gauge where the _fuck_ that unholy thought came from. She's looking down at you over the back of her shoulder with that secret hurt that sometimes, you don't know what else you can do to take it away. Other people got in hard and quick, before you ever arrived on the scene and they make her think less of herself, make her hate the body she's in, that you love so motherfucking much. It's too fucking bad, and if you knew who those motherfuckers were, you'd break their fucking faces. A motherfucker would just be popping off heads all night. Probably a good thing you don't know for sure who exactly to fucking blame. You kiss her soft at the small of her back, and decide to distract her from the nasty shit bubbling up in her thinkpan. You get those thoughts too, sometimes, although yours got a different focus to hers. Every motherfucker on this bitch of an earth got their own motherfucking burdens to deal with, that's just how it is. "Hey, Janeyjane?"

"What, Gamzee?" she huffs, then squeals as you lick her swift and quick right on her 'chute. Then you just kinda settle into licking it, tracing the shape with the tip of your tongue as you massage her wondrous ass with your palms and the lengths of your grasperstubs, getting her to sigh. Give in. Forget that shit she was thinking on, bubbling ugly with self-hate in her pan.

"That's what," you murmur, and she half-groans, half-laughs before moaning as you finally push your tongue past the clenching grip of her sphincter and inside. You eat ass like you'd eat one of her motherfucking delectable cakes, with motherfucking gusto and lively abandon. You slurp and make appreciative noises while she leans over the counter, gasping for breath while you work her over, wanting to make sure that she forgets whatever the fuck is in her mind and just concentrates on the now. On you. On what pleasures you're wanting to give her, sensual and motherfucking lecherous.

Your bulge is throbbing in its sheath, sticky things going on in the inderside of your pants where your nook be leaking but you can't help it when she gets you like this. It ain't important nohow, anyway. Right now, Jane is all you're about. You feast on what she lets you have, running your fingers up and down the curves of her ass and her thighs. Tucking one finger, then two inside her pussy while you explore your way through her insides on the other side of her. Thumb on her pleasurenub, while you slurp happily away at her asshole, working your tongue in as deep as you can. 

Her neden's all stickysweet on your fingers like melted sugar, and you feel her pussy clench down around you while you're working her over. You don't let up though, that ain't what the fuck this is for. You want Jane to surrender every fucking thing she's got to you. Give you all her bad feels, and let you give her back nothing but good, the way she _motherfucking deserves_. The joke of the fact that you're doing this by eating her ass doesn't escape you and you can't help but shiver with the strain of the hilarity you feel on the inside.

"Gamzee," is the gasp you hear from above you, and that makes you redouble your efforts until Jane is swooning. Falling to her knees against the solidity and realness of the nutrutionalblock cupboards. So you have to ease your grasperfronds from inside her before you do something you ain't mean to, her beautiful ass coming too far close to the floor for you to keep your tongue up inside her hole. She's all soft and unwound as taffy, so you just cuddle her and kiss her throat, her shoulder, those bits of skin as she's got bare. Mostly you'd been too motherfucking urgent as to get your mouth on her to let her properly get her clothes off. Or yours. "Oh..._fuck_..."

"Sounds like a brother has served you right motherfucking well," you murmur into her auricularclot, and let out a soft laugh of your own at her wordless whine. For a woman as hard as she can be when it's needed, she's all soft for you right now. Your own loins are pulsing, angry at you for putting off your own pleasure but you just kiss Jane's hair and breathe in.

You've done what you wanted to do, you've pleased her well and you're well fucking pleased with yourself. Got your mama all cuddlesome and smelling like wanton pleasure in your grasp. What the fuck else could a motherfucker want, if you gonna be really real with your own fucking self. Besides. Ain't like she won't be working to get you back.

You probably won't even need to wait that long. Jane's a real giving sort of person. But you're happy to just exist in this moment, just the way it is - your needy motherfucking intimate parts are just gonna have to wait their turn. Having Jane like this, is worth any sort of swollen fucking shameglobes and that's a stonecold fact. You kiss her again while she sighs, and smile like you can't help yourself to.

Flush sure is a motherfucking miracle, and so's Jane Crocker.


End file.
